


Florida

by campitor



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 11:02:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3408131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/campitor/pseuds/campitor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unhappiness, like a silverfish, lurked in his home and appeared on rainy days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Florida

Unhappiness, like a silverfish, lurked in his home and appeared on rainy days. It crawled out of the damp corners of his house and mind, and it darted away before he could crush it with a shoe. But the trail it left was slick and slimy, and Will often found himself stuck in it as though it were tar.

It was an unfortunate habit of his, getting stuck. Will loved to drag his feet through his discontent; he found a strange joy in wallowing. As the rain ticked against his roof, he sat in his chair with a cup of cold coffee between his hands and his dogs, bored with their master’s apathy, scattered all around him. 

Will thought about moving somewhere sunny and warm, somewhere where people weren’t mounted on stag heads. He thought about Florida summers and Florida winters, about how the Florida sun would have kept the coffee in his lap warm, about how rain in Florida was quick and brutal and beautiful rather than woeful and lethargic, as Virginia rain was.  
He thought about packing his bags and flying south, waving at Jack Crawford and the corpse of a girl from the cradle of the clouds. He thought about teary goodbyes with Alana and firm handshakes with Doctor Lecter. Thought about never wearing blue plastic gloves ever again.

He thought about moving, soaring away, touching down on the sandy beaches of the Sunshine State. He’d be gone! Anonymous. Sane, maybe. And he would rubber band-snap back into happiness, sharp and quick. His glee would sting; he wanted it to. 

A drop of rainwater slid from his ceiling and plopped onto his nose. Will looked up, pulled from his ruminations, and saw the veins of a leak spreading across his ceiling.  
  
Someday, perhaps, he’d kiss those citrus shores.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short drabble; this is my first addition to the archive! Little pieces like this are nice for limbering up before writing something more involved, and for writing some of my ideas down.


End file.
